To Understand Love
by timmycardiac
Summary: When nightmares keep him awake, Hearth thinks about Blitzen to calm himself. OR The one where I go on about what happens between these two after HOT and Hearth is seriously crushing here


I just found out today that I'm in love with Blitzen.

Maybe I've known for a lot longer, but I haven't allowed myself to really believe it until now.

Is it wrong to love him? I don't know. Certainly my parents would disapprove, whether it's because he's a svartalf or he's a man or even because he isn't a "proper dwarf," the same way I'm not a "proper elf."

Alfheim culture is strict. Anything that isn't perfect is immediately discarded. _Anything._ It all has to be perfect. That's why I left. I hated the light. The light shone constantly and highlighted any error there could possible be. If a fence was uneven or a light bulb wasn't working right, the elves would know.

If a high-class superimportant elvin family had a son who was physically disabled in a way that shouldn't have even mattered but for some reason did… well, I know all about that. Same-gender relationships are most definitely out of the question.

Me? Personally, I couldn't care less about what any of the nine worlds think. Their opinions don't change my choices. There's only one person that could ever change the way I feel about anything, and that person is currently sleeping in bliss, unaware of what thoughts bang around in my head whenever I'm alone.

It's strange to say this, but life was simpler when we lived on the streets of Boston. Back then I had an excuse to worry about Blitz all the time or curl up next to him during cold nights. Now there isn't a reason to make up for wanting to be close to him. Not while we're still only friends.

Oh gods, I would give anything for Blitzen to love me the way I love him. I won't deny there are a million times a day where I consider telling him how I feel, but really, what do I know about love? The only other person I've ever loved died twelve years ago. This feeling is almost completely foreign to me. I'd spent my whole life being neglected and mistreated. For seventeen whole years I'd put up with it. And once I met Blitz, I couldn't get enough of his kindness.

I know I don't usually let on to my feelings, and I hardly ever talk about my own emotions, but at the very least I hope Blitzen knows he makes me happy. But then, he's always been good at reading me, though I can never explain it. I don't understand how he can tell that I'm frustrated or anxious or that I've been having nightmares again.

I wonder if it's something he got from Freya? Perhaps he was just born with a vast knowledge of how to comfort and love. Or maybe it might be that he's hurt so much himself he can easily recognize pain in others.

The only problem with that is, if he knows I love him, why doesn't he do anything about it? Why keep quiet and pretend to be oblivious if he is aware of my feelings, or if he shares them? I assumed something like this would be easy to spot after living with him for three years, but no. Blitzen is, in some ways, very much a mystery to me.

I sigh softly and open my heavy eyelids. I stare at the cylindrical bulbs that run from my head to the tips of my boots. One of the lights is flickering. I brush my fingers over the textured surface of the bulb and smile to myself, thinking that tomorrow Blitzen would go out of his way to get it fixed, and wouldn't rest until he was sure I'd be okay.

Blitz made this tanning bed so I could be with him. He made it for me. He learned a whole new language, just for me. Even the scarf I hate to take off was from him.

My eyelids start falling shut again. Before my mid is taken into the trance of sleep, I realize something-

Blitzen really does love me.

 **Yo my peeps. This is my new account. And here is some Blitzstone to celebrate the release of Ship of the Dead which comes out in one week and ohmygosh Uncle Rick had better canonize this or else I'll probably cry myself to sleep for a month and all of the angry fans will rise up and take control of the earth and we will knock down Rick Riordan's door with torches and pitchforks in hand-**

 **Woah. That just got intense. At least give us some Fierrochase, Rick.**


End file.
